


Not Yet

by mansikka



Series: Too Far [11]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Caring Dean, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-10
Updated: 2016-04-10
Packaged: 2018-06-01 10:23:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6514288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mansikka/pseuds/mansikka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“There is no need to try to be quiet, Dean. I am already awake,”</p><p>Dean froze as he stepped back from his closet, his shoulders going rigid and his hand tensing around the soft cloth of the sweatpants in his hand, turning slowly on the spot. </p><p>“Sorry, Cas,” he said, wincing but stepping forward anyway to stand beside Cas where he had been sleeping. </p><p>“This is your room. I am intruding,” Cas observed, looking down at himself and the way he was stretched out down the length of Dean's bed, unmoving from where he'd fallen asleep several hours earlier; not that he was particularly aware of time in that moment.</p><p>“Never intruding, Cas. Don't ever think that, ever.” Dean half-pleaded, unable to keep a tinge of desperation from his voice as he spoke.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Yet

“There is no need to try to be quiet, Dean. I am already awake,”

Dean froze as he stepped back from his closet, his shoulders going rigid and his hand tensing around the soft cloth of the sweatpants in his hand, turning slowly on the spot.

“Sorry, Cas,” he said, wincing but stepping forward anyway to stand beside Cas where he had been sleeping.

“This is your room. I am intruding,” Cas observed, looking down at himself and the way he was stretched out down the length of Dean's bed, unmoving from where he'd fallen asleep several hours earlier; not that he was particularly aware of time in that moment.

“Never intruding, Cas. Don't ever think that, ever.” Dean half-pleaded, unable to keep a tinge of desperation from his voice as he spoke.

Cas closed his eyes to Dean's words, but nodded to show he understood.

“You need anything?” Dean asked quietly, watching as Cas cracked his eyes open again.

“I am hungry,” Cas admitted, frowning down at his stomach as though he didn't approve of its reminder that he was currently more human than angel.

“Want me to grab you something?”

Cas shook his head, starting to try and move to sit up.

“Cas, c'mon. You're still recovering. I can get you-”

“I need to keep moving, Dean,” Cas protested, though it came out half-hearted.

“I know you do,” Dean agreed, reaching towards Cas' arm as he shifted but not quite touching him. “But... what if you just... let me help? Please?”

Cas cast a shrewd eye over Dean then, laying completely still. “Because it would make  _ you _ feel better, Dean?”

Dean swallowed nervously under his glare, but kept the eye contact anyway. “Yeah,”

Cas' eyebrows raised slightly to show his surprise at Dean's honesty, and he continued staring back.

“Yeah, it would, Cas. It'd make me feel better. And as well as that... you getting rested and better yourself can't be a bad thing, can it?”

“True.”

“So. What'll it be? Sandwich? Pizza? Hot Pocket? I won't tell Sam,” he added then winked, with both of them smiling at the memory of Sam's look of sheer disappointment when that was the food Cas had asked for first when he woke up in the bunker.

“...two Hot Pockets,” Cas suggested, making Dean's smile split that little bit wider.

He clapped his hands together and thumbed towards the door. “Coming right up.”

“Dean,”

Cas' voice stopped Dean mid-pivot, making him stumble and flail his arms out to correct himself.

“Perhaps... perhaps I can walk with you,”

Dean took in the way Cas ducked his head and smiled to himself. Of all the human things he'd had to experience since whatever had happened to him had happened, the fact that he needed to use the bathroom once in a while was still the one that caused Cas' cheeks to flare with embarrassment.

Dean held out a hand unthinkingly, to let Cas use him to pull himself up. Cas eyed it for a second, almost with mistrust, and then slowly lifted his own, wrapping it around Dean's wrist.

Dean braced as Cas pulled himself up to sit, and again as he stood, swallowing at the way Cas' fingers pressed into his skin and lingered for a few seconds until he had his balance. And a few seconds more besides.

“You good?” Dean asked, not trusting himself to stay stood the way they were for much longer without doing something he shouldn't.

At Cas' nod, they set off at an excruciatingly slow pace, with Dean tensed and prepared to catch Cas on his still sometimes-wobbly legs, but they made it to the kitchen unscathed. Whilst Cas used the bathroom, Dean heated through his requested Hot Pockets and was sliding them on to a plate just as Cas returned.

Dean tilted his head over at the table. “You wanna eat out here, or-”

“Perhaps I should return to my own room,”

The hesitance in Cas' voice had Dean's imagination running wild; did Cas think he wanted to be left alone? Did he worry that he wouldn't make it back to his room on his own without someone to prop him up? Did he want Dean to stay with him a little longer, and talk some more, but didn't know how to ask?

“Cas,” Dean said, chasing away all of his own second-guessing. “I... how 'bout you come back to my room for a bit. We can talk some more,”

Cas' brow furrowed, his eyes falling to the plate still in Dean's hand. “I presumed you would not want to talk any more today,”

“Hey. I'd happily never have another difficult conversation in my life, Cas, think we both know that. But...” he shrugged a little, giving Cas the chance to answer.

“And you are not tired,” Cas pressed on, still sounding unsure.

“Not really. I mean... with you sleeping before. I was gonna maybe come and sleep out here for the night, let you rest,” Dean nodded over towards an old battered sofa he and Sam had hauled in a few months back, that had seen more than a few better days.

Dean's offer softened Cas' expression further and he flicked a smile at him, starting the slow walk back.

“There's... other stuff we need to talk about anyway, Cas. Kind of... not about us. Not really, anyway,” Dean frowned, stepping in beside Cas and walking at his pace.

Cas' concentration was diverted entirely to keeping himself upright, and it wasn't until he'd dropped himself back down on Dean's bed in relief, and unsteadily reached for the plate in Dean's hand, that he was able to respond.

“What is it that you wished to speak about?”

“Eat,” Dean ordered softly, nodding towards the plate. When Cas took a bite, Dean nodded, and started pacing.

“So. While you were... out. Sam got a call.”

“There is a case?” Cas asked, swallowing a mouthful of food with such appreciation that it could have been a Michelin starred meal instead of microwaved trash, and the reaction had Dean's mouth drying out a little to witness it.

“Not a case exactly,” Dean forced himself to continue, shaking his head. “And even if there was... I wouldn't be going anywhere yet. Not while... you know.”

Dean tilted his chin over at Cas, and Cas shook his head.

“You do not need to stop working because of me-”

“I am  _ not _ leaving you,” Dean told him in a tone brokering no argument.

Cas stared back for a moment, then rewarded him with a small, grateful smile. “Not 'exactly' a case,” he prompted, and Dean nodded again.

“There's... we think. I mean we don't know for sure. But... we think a hunter's found an angel. Like... how you were before.”

Cas' eyes grew wide in alarm, and Dean wanted to rush forward and wrap his arms around him, or do anything to take that look away. But he didn't, instead just twitched his hands by his sides, and breathed himself through the urge to go to him.

“Same wound, we think. Same... coma, I guess; not sure how else to describe it.”

“I could feel, and hear everything, Dean,” Cas mumbled absently in between eating.

“I know-”

“I felt trapped behind myself,” Cas interrupted, frowning at his choice of words. “I kept on pushing, and pushing, and...”

Dean watched as Cas' eyes darted up at him briefly before he turned away again.

“And...” Dean prompted, half-guessing what Cas was going to tell him.

“And the only thing that allowed me to move, even though that movement, at least to begin with, was so small... was my anger at you. It was as though channelling that anger allowed my grace to surface, even if just for a short time.”

Dean slumped visibly, curling his hands into his thighs as his head dropped. “I'm-”

“There is no need to tell me that you are sorry again, Dean,” Cas said, with slight emphasis on the word  _ again _ . “Perhaps that helped me to recover.”

“We don't know that,” Dean denied, shaking his head.

“It appears we know very little,” Cas pointed out, swallowing the last bite of his Hot Pocket and tiredly pushing his plate back on to the cabinet beside Dean's bed.

“I guess we don't.”

“When are we leaving?”

Dean's dropped jaw reaction to Cas' question was enough to make Cas smile a touch, and he patted the bed beside him, inviting Dean to sit.

Dean stared down at his hand, his eyes cracking a fraction wider, then back up at his face as though Cas had asked him something much more complex than he had.

“Firstly,” Cas began, patting the bed again. “This is your room. This is your bed. I am not monopolising it, and you are making me uncomfortable standing over me. Sit.”

Carefully, as though he thought Cas might change his mind at any moment, Dean moved around to the other side of the bed and sank down beside him, mirroring Cas' position by resting back against the headboard and stretching his legs out before him. Cas nodded to show he approved, then carried on.

“Secondly. I may not be much use-”

“Cas,” Dean pleaded, instantly stopping talking at the look Cas gave him.

“Currently. I may not be of much use  _ currently _ . But this situation does, as you say, involve me in some way. I want to know. I want to see,”

“It's not about you being of-”

“Dean,” Cas stopped him again, this time by hesitantly reaching out a hand to wrap around his wrist. “If this is something affecting other angels. I need to see,”

Dean looked down at Cas' fingers, pressing his lips into a thin line. “Not picking anything up on angel radio? I mean... you even hearing that right now?”

Cas nodded, his own eyes fluttering closed. “I have not stopped hearing it, Dean. And there is nothing to indicate that there is a problem. But that is not to say that there isn't one.”

They sat in silence for a few minutes, Dean's eyes firmly fixed on the back of Cas' hand on him, and feeling disappointment wash over as he pulled it away again.

“We will talk this over with Sam tomorrow. But at the moment, I am tired, Dean.” Cas said eventually, his voice indicating just how tired he was.

Dean nodded, stretching a little himself. “Want me to walk you back?”

When Cas didn't answer immediately, Dean dropped his gaze from where he'd been idly looking up at the ceiling, and saw the thoughtful look on Cas' face.

“I could stay,”

Dean became very, very still, and he let his eyes rest on Cas' for a moment before he spoke. “Cas?”

Cas smiled tiredly, and shuffled down the bed, somehow managing to push the cover down at the same time with minimum effort. “Unless you object. I am too tired to move again. But if you insist, give me a few minutes to-”

“No,”

Cas' eyes flew to where the Dean's hand had lightly gripped around his arm, and followed it as Dean drew it away again guiltily.

“Stay, Cas. I'd- I'd like that,” Dean said, barely above a whisper. “And I promise. I won't-”

“I know,” Cas told him with a weak smile, wriggling to get comfortable and smiling wider as he felt Dean doing the same beside him. Dean pulled the cover back up over them both before rolling on to his back, and staring up at the ceiling.

“Tell me something,” Cas mumbled, making Dean look over at him and see him fighting to stay awake a little longer.

“What?”

“Just... something,” Cas said, giving a small shrug that Dean could only just make out.

“Uh... I'm... a little worried about what we're gonna find with this angel,” Dean said, and Cas' eyes focused a touch harder at his words, settling on his face.

“As am I,”

“I can't... the thought that you... I-”

“Dean. I am recovering,” Cas told him gently, giving him a small smile of gratitude yet again. “I can only presume that your care has had much to do with that.”

“I didn't know what I was doing,” Dean admitted, sighing. “I... we've not seen anything like it, you know? Before? And... when I cleaned out your... god, it stank.”

Cas wrinkled up his nose in agreement, swallowing in disgust. “I remember. It was... repulsive.”

“Yeah,” Dean laughed softly. “Made me throw up. A couple of times, actually,”

Cas gave out a soft, embarrassed groan at that. “I am sorry-”

“No need to be sorry, Cas,” and as Dean had found, the urge to reach out to Cas, to comfort him, to reassure himself that Cas was still there, was just as strong as it had always been. He withdrew his hand instantly, tucking it in under his other arm as though to keep it in place.

Cas glanced down at the movement, then back up at Dean's face. “Tell me what you are thinking, Dean.”

Dean closed his eyes, shaking his head. “Not sure you'd wanna hear it, Cas.”

“Dean,” and Cas rolled himself awkwardly until he was on his side.

Dean swallowed nervously as Cas moved, but the expression on Cas' face did nothing to give him a clue as to what he was supposed to do.

Carefully, still keeping a good gap between them, Dean too rolled slowly on to his side until they were facing one another. He cleared his throat, and forced himself to look Cas directly in the eye.

“What I'm thinking... is that I don't know why you'd trust me enough to sleep here, after... you know,” he said, taking a small breath to try and keep himself going. “I'm thinking... I'm thinking I'm... scared... of what I might do in my sleep with you here. I still keep wanting to reach out for you, Cas. even after... even when I know it's not welcome.”

“I did not say it was unwelcome, Dean,” Cas corrected, making Dean's breath catch in his throat. “I think we are both aware that in different circumstances. If we had... spoken. About this, before. It would have been very welcome.”

“But not now,” Dean said, as though he needed the pain of Cas' confirmation to give him the power to not doing anything he shouldn't.

Cas nodded slowly, his eyes falling briefly to Dean's lips before he glanced back up. “Not  _ right _ now,” he amended, and Dean felt his heart surge in hope.

“If I tell you that what I'm fighting with right now is the urge to lean over and kiss you...” Dean blurted out, then cursed under his breath for letting those words escape.

Cas' face showed surprise, and then his lips twitched up at the corners. “If I tell you that what  _ I _ am fighting with is the urge to sleep so that I can  _ let _ you do that,”

Dean sucked in a shocked breath, his eyes blowing wide as he shook his head. “Not helping, Cas,” he laughed, brokenly.

“No, I imagine not,” Cas admitted, closing his eyes again.

Dean studied him for a while, trying to gauge if it would be better to just be quiet and let Cas fall asleep, and the words they might want to say right now could just be left unsaid until another time. As they usually were.

“I think I already proved that once I start... I don't know how to stop myself,” Dean said instead, choking out his words and balling his hands up into tight fists that he kept firmly to himself.

Cas opened his eyes and studied him back. “Not yet, Dean.”

Cas' words did many things to Dean. It eased the instinct he felt to reach out for him anyway, invited or not. It curbed the feeling of loss, and guilt that he got from how much of a mess he'd made of things over the past few months. It also gave him a little hope that  _ yet _ might mean if not  _ now _ then  _ some time _ .

He could work with that.

Dean watched until Cas' eyes fluttered closed again, before he allowed his own to do the same. He let out a small gasp of surprise at the feel of Cas' hand wrapping lightly around his clenched fist, stroking over his fingers until he loosened the grip, then lacing their hands together.

When he chanced another quick look by cracking open one eye, Dean found that Cas was already asleep, with the smallest of smiles on his face. And at the sight of that, Dean allowed himself to sleep as well.

  
  
  



End file.
